Aid and Comfort
by TerryJ
Summary: This is another instance of me finding it very difficult to construct a summary. Ostensibly this tells the story of where the L&O characters were surrounding the events of September 11th, 2001 but it is a story about character and friendships. Will be a multi-chapter narrative.
1. Reflection

_This is a story which has been festering in the back of my mind for a long time but I've hesitated to actually put it together. I don't know why I finally am getting this out there but I am. It's not quite finished yet although I do have the drafts of several chapters laid out._

_The story starts after the conclusion of the first episode of season 20, "**Memo from the Dark Side**"_

_Standard disclaimer; I own nothing except the plot of this story._

* * *

The orange glow of the sunset reflected off the tall buildings of the New York skyline and filled the oaken DA's office with an ethereal glow. Jack stood, arms crossed, gazing out at the city before him.

Not for the first time he considered rearranging the office so he could sit with his feet up while looking out as he was prone to do in his old office. 2 years and an election made those days seem like a long lost lifetime ago.

Jack snorted to himself; it was close to 7pm and not only did he still have his suit pants on but he hadn't even loosened his tie. He thought fleetingly of the reception he just _had_ to make an appearance at later that evening and reflected on how he couldn't remember the last time he left the office in his jeans and beaten leather coat. It seemed that so much had changed; he was a politician, elected and everything. He had to play the part; something he found himself not entirely willing to commit too.

He smiled to himself. It had taken some time for him to readjust his priorities again after the election but he was beginning to feel more comfortable in his own skin again now that the campaign nonsense was over with and he only had to focus on litigating. In fact, he mused, he was actually kind of having fun flexing his legal and political muscle.

Even though he never really thought it would get too far he had enjoyed the hell out of subpoenaing half of the previous administration. Sure, he had probably burned some bridges and nearly given Mike an aneurysm and sure it was all for nothing as justice was literally yanked from the hands of the jury...But still; it was fun. He always enjoyed a good David and Goliath type fight.

He would be lying if he didn't acknowledge that he also enjoyed making a statement in the political arena. The city knew now; hell the _country_ knew that this office would not allow ANY crime to go unprosecuted. If that gave anyone from the lowliest street thug to the most elite member of society pause before they broke the covenants of society; that had to be a good thing. He'd always held the conviction that the law was sacred and blind and it was nice to have the power to push the issue.

Yes, despite the changes and the challenges he was feeling pretty good. In fact there was only one thing bothering him. He shook himself, unwilling to allow a small, spiteful comment to derail his good mood. Unfortunately the thought wouldn't stay gone and he couldn't help but allow it to fester in the back of his mind as he watched the sun's receding reflection over Manhattan.

"Not a bad view, Counselor." Jack turned from his musings to see Anita Van Buren standing a pace to his side. He smiled a welcome to her and turned away again looking back out the window.

"No, I don't suppose it is Lieutenant."

The two civil servants stood in companionable silence for a few moments longer. Jack wasn't sure why Anita was there; it wasn't infrequently that she visited on business and odd hours but it also wasn't unheard of for her to come to his office with a more personal angle, opinions and observations which would cause Jack to stew and reconsider his handling of a particular matter at hand.

Seeing as she was standing next to him quietly and not pushing to get down to business he assumed this visit was of the latter variety. He didn't mind, he liked and respected the officer and often appreciated her input when she felt strongly enough to voice her mind. The two shared a unique history and standing with her, looking out to the city he couldn't stop certain memories from swirling to the front of his mind.

"You know," he began quietly, without moving, "I've been looking out this window or the one next door off and on for over 30 years. Even though it's been nearly a decade, sometimes it still surprises me when I look up and the towers aren't there."

Anita was quiet for another few moments and then she shifted, turning to face McCoy. "You and Mr. Cutter certainly have been making waves."

Her tone was light but he knew the comment was anything but casual and hardly a non-sequitur. McCoy nodded slowly, taking his time to decide how to respond.

"I assume you heard that the trial is over." He could feel her eyes on him but did not break his watchful surveillance of the window.

Anita nodded. "Yes, I imagine the whole city has. Stopped by federal order just short of the verdict." She pinned him under the kind of watchful gaze that only a detective and a mother could perfect. He didn't flinch at her comment, nor grimace. He didn't even shrug his shoulders, merely raised his eyebrows.

"There was a time when interference like that would cause you to be outraged." She prodded.

That caused Jack to turn to the Lieutenant. "Is that why you're here? Are you checking up on me Anita? Worried I'd blow up the courthouse?" He smirked the little half grin which reminded Anita of the brash smart-ass who had hauled her in front of the grand jury 15 years ago. Back then she couldn't decide if that grin made her want to slap him or kiss him. Now it just filled her with a strange fondness which was what the older lawyer had grown to be to her. Although she could still imagine getting satisfaction from smacking that grin off of his face.

"I'd just hate to see you commit political suicide so soon after what we all went through to get you elected." She sassed at him.

The grin slowly slid off his face, replaced with slumped shoulders and the hurt puppy eyes which Anita promptly decided made her even more crazy than the grin. "Was I really that terrible?"

He turned away from the window and flopped onto the old leather couch with far less grace and dignity than one would expect from a man of his age and position.

Anita edged around the coffee table to sit next to him. "Election years are always tough for everyone; regardless of who has been in this office." She offered.

He rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes, "So in other words, yes, that terrible, but it's okay because everyone's an ass in an election year?" He turned his head to face her without lifting it from the back of the couch.

She smiled at him; the biggest, baddest, scariest, most powerful man in New York law enforcement sprawled like a rumpled heap asking forgiveness for acting like a politician. Damnit if she didn't adore this man. Doesn't mean she wanted to make it easy for him. "Something like that."

Jack let out a rare chuckle and rocked his head back to look up at the ceiling. His fingers found the tie around his neck and unceremoniously yanked at it until it was loose enough to fit his fingers in and undo the top button of his shirt. Succeeding in his mission of comfort he dropped his arms to his side and sighed deeply.

Anita waited a few moments but spoke up when he didn't say anything. "So really, that's it?"

"That's it what?"

Anita squared off on the couch, "That's it as in you're not upset at the way the verdict was usurped?"

Jack shrugged his shoulders, "I can't be too frustrated. In all honesty I knew it was going to happen. I was actually surprised when it looked like we might actually finish it out. No, getting worked up over the realities of politics and law is best left to the young. I'm leaving it to Mike to be angry enough for all of us." He smiled conspiritoriously toward the adjoining door. He shuffled himself up into a more proper sitting position and leaned over to grab a folder off the table. He pulled his dark framed reading glasses from his breast pocket and perched them on his nose to read what was inside as he opened the folder enough that Anita could see from her position on the couch.

"He's already drafted a motion to release the jury verdict as a matter of record." Jack scoffed but looked at the document almost fondly. Anita watched as he scanned the paperwork and was suddenly struck by the fact that with his hair more white than grey or black and his reading glasses Jack looked more like the kindly neighborhood grandfather than the charismatic and fierce legal force that he was. It seemed to her the physical changes in him had occurred rather quickly.

She was about to make a comment, maybe tease him that his hair was thinning, when he put down the folder with a deep breath. The mother in her caught a something simmering beneath his facade of a wise and accepting elder statesman.

She hesitated to say anything; their relationship had always flirted with friendship but ultimately landed in the professional realm and she hesitated to push too far and break their long established pattern. A moment's thought gave her an idea as to what his bother must be and she knew it was worth pushing the issue.

"There is something that is bothering you though, isn't there?" She looked at him unwaveringly.

He turned his head sharply to look at her.

"Not really. Lord knows I have enough new coming at me every day that I can't afford to get hung up on something that is past and done." He nodded his head, the motion almost as a reaffirmation to himself than to Anita.

She paused and carefully weighed speaking again. "I read the opeds on this trial you know. I know the things that some people said. Some people called the trial unpatriotic; I think one even suggested this office was committing treason by trying to protect terrorists."

He sighed and took off his glasses as he scrubbed his hands over his face before leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.

"So, I guess there is something." Anita sat back and smirked.

Jack turned his head to the side to offer a glare before relenting and sitting back.

"I learned a long time ago not to pay much attention to the papers. No, they've always been a thorn in my side no matter what the trial."

Anita nodded, she knew the cops had to operate in much the same way when a crime caught the public's attention. "Still, can't be easy trying to conduct business surrounded by that kind of sentiment."

Jack let out a huff. "I won't pretend it is." He paused in thought, "You know, my mother had a cousin or something who was actually a DA in rural Georgia during the civil rights movement. When the papers or public sentiment get too rough around here I just think of what he must have endured when he was prosecuting civil rights offenders down there and I realize I don't have it that bad. No one is burning a cross on my yard."

Anita appreciated his sentiment but she wasn't about to let him off the hook, "Well, it may not be a burning cross but someone said or did something that got to you. I can see it written all over your face."

He sighed and looked down at his interlocked hands. After a few moments he looked at her, "Do you remember David Jeffries who used to work here?"

Anita thought for a moment; "I think so; kind of round? I think he helped out the boys frequently with warrants. He moved to Washington, right?"

Jack nodded. "Yup. That's him. Good guy. I worked with him frequently through the years. Always thought he 'got it'. I was really happy for him when he joined up with the campaign and now the new administration." Jack paused and Anita wisely did not interject. "The opinion writers and the talking heads on tv I can deal with. Half the time they don't know a quarter of what's really going on. They just blather and it doesn't bother me. But David knows better. He knows what was being done. He knows the case. He knows me! And, well...David just about outright accused me of providing aid and comfort to terrorists. He called me a traitor to my face. I know he was talking with blinders on and I've rationalized it away to myself...but I can't shake it. I guess you could say it's been eating at me."

Jack locked eyes with Anita and shrugged sadly. It was easy to see it really was bothering him.

She never pretended to really know Jack McCoy as a person outside of this role but there were some things about him she did know with absolute certainty. His patriotism and absolute devotion to the country and the men and women who fought for it was not to be questioned.

She remembered a case shortly before he was named DA. Over the course of the investigation he and Connie discovered the deplorable conditions in the local VA hospital. They had been ordered to keep the discovery quiet, a ruling that actually helped the people's case. Yet, despite great professional risk he shed light on the issue anyway. He brought it all out in open court when the defense attorney had been silenced. He knew it was the right thing and the patriotic thing to do. Yet the next week there was op-eds calling his actions into question. She knew she had been a factor in his decision after she came to his office late at night talking about her father; but McCoy was the one who had to bear the consequences of their shared moral high ground. It was one of the bravest things she'd seen him do.

She thought of another brave thing he had done and sighed. This man did not deserve to have his patriotism called into question. He did not deserve to be labeled a traitor. She looked at him and knew she needed to say something to assuage his own festering doubts.

"Give me your hand." She spoke quietly, but firmly.

Jack's eyebrows arched up, a curious look on his face. "Why?"

"Jack, just give me your right hand."

Jack sat still for a moment and then apparently finding no reason to deny her request he proffered his hand to her.

She grasped it gently and turned it over; she didn't have to look hard or long until she found what she was looking for. She knew there would be a scar. The wound had been too deep and left untended for too long for it to have healed without leaving a mark.

She ran her fingers lightly over the faded white mark stretching nearly two inches along the pad of his thumb. She felt him tense and then grow very still. She met his eyes which were staring at her with unblinking intensity.

"David Jefferies and everyone else who thinks they know something about you is an idiot." She spoke with a finality which left no room for any argument. "A traitor wouldn't have this scar. Someone with this scar would have no interest in aiding or comforting any terrorists. Someone with this scar would be passionately dedicated to protecting this country and everything it stands for in any way he could, as best he could. The person with this scar is a patriot."


	2. Day of Infamy

**September 11th 2001**. _8:40 am_

"She'll be fine Nora. She has a lot to learn but she knows it." Jack was pacing the office of District Attorney Nora Lewin who was seated comfortably on the upholstered couch under the window.

"Well I'm happy to hear she doesn't have an attitude problem but that's not the issue here Jack." Nora spoke with the air of instruction, "It's more than a research assistant position. When someone second chairs for you they need to be able to hold their own. They need to be prepared to present to a grand jury, present motions independently. That's who will need to step up when you get sick...or arrested for contempt." Nora grinned at Jack's grimace. "Not to mention an ability to ride herd on those over eager detectives. It takes more than just a strong ability to research."

Jack braced his hands on the back of one of the chairs in the room, "I know. And if there were another Abbie Carmichael in this office I'd grab them up in less than a second. The fact is that right now we are short staffed. Anyone even close to Abbie's caliber in the courtroom is already acting as a lead attorney and we simply don't have the man power to pull anyone off of their caseload to dump them into mine. The only realistic choices I had were a handful of very green folks and Serena has the most potential. Give her a few major trials to begin feeling comfortable and she'll be a very reliable second chair."

Nora looked at him with a playful grin, "Is it her potential or her looks that made her the best candidate to promote Jack?"

Jack walked around the chair and dropped into it with a huff. "Nora, please" he stared the District Attorney down, "You _know_ that I prefer brunettes." He grinned victoriously at the DA's resulting chuckle.

"Ok Jack, you've convinced me. But we should plan on discussing this again in a few months, after you've had those trials." Nora pierced Jack with a gaze over her coffee cup.

"Absolutely." He grabbed a square of coffee cake resting on the couch next to Nora.

"Is that all you're going to have for breakfast Jack? You have a worse diet than my nephew." Nora admonished. Jack just grinned and popped the rest of the sugary square into his mouth as he leaned forward to hunch over a case file and the DAs' trial calendar spread across the coffee table. "Now, I came in here initially to discuss to whom we should give the Daniels case. I heard he retained Rothman so We really need to get this sorted this morning. The natural choice would be Latham but his dance card is already stacked. I'd like to give it to Cutter."

Nora shrugged, "Cutter is still so young. Not to mention he's unpredictable. I can't seem to get a handle on him. I don't know if we should let him run on his own with something like this."

Jack shrugged, "It's not that imposing of a case. The real difficulty is going to be the pretrial motions, the biggest being the suppression motion which is surely on its way. If we win that then the case is primed to be pled out. Besides, Cutter's not really _that_ young. He has experience outside this office and he's put in his time here as a grunt. I'd like to start shuffling some real material to him and see how he handles it. He's smart and determined. I like him and think we should give him a swing."

Nora sighed and slowly nodded. "Okay, but I want him reporting directly to you or Latham every step of the way."

Jack assented, "Absolutely not a problem. I'll see if he's in yet and call him up right now." Jack moved to call the 9th floor from Nora's desk.

As he was hanging up the phone there was a sudden screeching from outside the window.

"What on earth?" "What the Hell?" Both lawyers exclaimed at the same time.

Jack looked up just in time to see the source of the noise, a large passenger airplane which had passed overhead at way too low an altitude. He watched, in horrible slow motion as the plane straightened and disappeared into the North tower of the World Trade Center just over a half mile away. For a split second he hoped it was an illusion and the plane just passed on the other side of the building. The hope was fleeting as the explosion and smoke could be seen emanating from the side of the landmark tower.

"My god." Nora whispered, bringing a hand to her mouth. The two lawyers, stood in silence struggling to comprehend the meaning of what had happened.

For once he found himself at an absolute loss for words. Even his mind seemed frozen, unable to register the reality of what it was he had just seen. He struggled with the knowledge that they had just been witness to scores of deaths.

The relative quiet of the shared moment of shock was fleeting but the surrealism was not. A knock at the door revealed a growing crowd of secretaries and ADAs wordlessly asking if they could enter to see for themselves proof of the news that was being quickly spread through the halls. Before long the buzz of a crowd filled the room and people who normally avoided the District Attorney's office eschewed protocol in an effort to get to a window and verify with their own eyes what was happening.

Jack glanced through the open doorway and saw coworkers he never spoke to leaning against the window in his own office. He idly hoped they would be mindful of his boat and the picture of Rebecca. He then turned his attention to a small group in the doorway and their conversation about how they might get up onto the roof for a better view. His attention bounced around the room as he overheard speculations and rumors flourish. Anyone with a cell phone had it out, trying to reach friends or family who worked in the towers. Jack saw a man whom he only knew as a courier with tears in his eyes asking to borrow a phone in an attempt to reach his wife. Someone turned the tv on to CNN where a helicopter feed of the burning tower dominated the screen while commentators battled over each other speculating everything from terrorism to an inebriated pilot.

The room had swelled to a din of chaotic noise when suddenly Nora's voice, soft yet stern, rang out through the gathered crowd. "Everyone calm down. We don't know what happened yet. The news is reporting that it is likely an accident. There is no need to panic. Whatever the circumstances we will all be in the know soon enough. This is an unspeakable tragedy but it occurred in our jurisdiction. I am sure that we will all know the truth soon enough. Rumor and suspicion do not help anyone and have no place in this office. Let us instead focus our attention on what we can do. Those with phones help those who are trying to contact friends and family members who work in the tower."

She paused and the room stayed settled.

She turned and locked eyes with McCoy. With absolute conviction of faith she said, "Jack. You do what you can to figure out what we're dealing with here." She turned back to the crowd, "Everyone else take a couple more minutes but I assume we all still have cases to work on today."

Jack didn't move from where he had been planted next to Nora's desk. He felt like he had been punched in the gut. He felt the intensity of the oncoming pressure that would certainly be the mess surrounding whatever cases derived from this horrific incident. As soon as Nora mentioned jurisdiction he was hit with the reality that if there was a local criminal case to be made that it would land on his desk. What that meant, he had no idea but he did know it made him sick to his stomach. On top of that she had asked him to find out what had happened. She believed that _he_ would be able to piece together this thing for everyone. He didn't want to express his doubt but at the moment he was lacking that faith in himself. He was still having a hard time comprehending the basic reality of what was unfolding in front of his very eyes and certainly did not want to acknowledge the pit of fear in his stomach that this could possibly something much more sinister than a terrible accident.

What did she expect him to do?

He forced himself to stop and think. He had to detach himself from his emotions and start thinking coldly and rationally, just like being a prosecutor in any other horrific case. He took a deep breath and focused on what he needed to do; talk to someone who would have information about why a plane would suddenly crash into a building. He could do that. He had a contact at the FAA who worked out of JFK. All he had to do is call Gerry and he'd at least be pointed in the right direction.

At that moment he felt a presence next to him. Mike Cutter was standing next to Jack holding out a cell phone.

At Jack's questioning look the younger attorney shrugged, "It's mine. I figured you'd need a phone. They're going like hotcakes around here."

Jack looked around and noticed that indeed someone was on both of the phones in Nora's office. He assumed the same thing was happening in his own office and the conference rooms throughout the building. He nodded his assent to Mike's unassuming assistance. He thanked him and accepted the phone. The younger man grimaced, broke eye contact and moved back to the window to join the crowd.

Jack turned his back to the crowd and focused on determining how to make a call on the phone. He eventually succeeded in placing an outgoing call and was startled that it was picked up after the first ring.

He could hear pure commotion on the other end and when Gerry's voice rang through the line it was not with the quiet professional demeanor Jack was accustomed to.

"_Yeah!_"

"Gerry, it's Jack McCoy, Manhattan DA's office. I know you're probably crazy at the moment but..."

"Jack, sorry, I can't talk right now, we don't know what's going on, there are reports of at least one more hijacking and we don't know..."

"One _more **hijacking**_? You mean you know this is..." He heard Gerry shout at someone on the other end of the line and then a quiet whisper of "_Holy Hell_."

"Gerry?...Gerry!"

He listened to the sounds of panic coming from the phone and felt his throat constrict with dread.

"Oh My God!" He heard Serena shout from the window. He turned around in time to see the edge of a flame out and a new black cloud of smoke.

He clenched his jaw so hard that he feared he might chip a tooth.

He slowly lowered the phone from his ear. The room was silent save for the sound of a few muffled sobs and the distant sound of hundreds of sirens in the streets.

In a moment of clarity the situation crystallized for him. Gerry had called it a hijacking. 2 planes, these were not two accidents, they were attacks. Gerry had said there might be more. The plumes of smoke rising into the clear blue sky were the first symbols of a war.

Fear twisted in his gut and he swallowed the taste of bile rising in his throat. His vision tunneled and he could no longer hear the noise of the room that surrounded him. Knowing that this was an attack only clarified one very small element of confusion; and opened scores of other questions.

Who? Why? Were they working alone or as part of a large group or under orders of a nation's government. Where did the planes come from? Were there passengers on them? Did he know anyone who was supposed to be flying today? Was it truly a hijacking or were the pilots subversives? How could someone hijack a plane? How did they get through security? How many other planes in the air had intentions of ramming into buildings? Were there other forms of attack planned? Bombs? Chemicals? Contagions? What buildings or institutions were next? Hogan place is a state building; is it under threat? How do you possibly respond to this? How will the people of the city react? Will there be bedlam in the streets? Looting and rioting? How could FDNY fight two massive fires high up in the sky scrapers? How were they going to be able to evacuate the people on the floors above the crash sites? Who did he know who was supposed to be in those buildings today?

The last thought made him feel sick and weak in the knees. The answer was_ too many_.

He snapped back to the present and looked around at the grief stricken faces of those around him and felt helpless. He had to do something. Sitting here wringing his hands was not something he'd be able to do.

Mike Cutter was leaning against the door frame, a murderous look darkening his youthful features. Jack handed him his phone back without a word and proceeded past him to his own office. He kicked the staffers out, promising that they could return in a few minutes. He shucked his tie and suit jacket and grabbed his jeans off the rack. Moments later he was walking determinedly toward the elevator when he was halted by a quiet professor's voice.

"Jack?"

He turned to face her standing a few paces behind him, "Nora."

They stood facing each other in the empty hall. The bullpens and hallway offices were deserted, all their occupants crowded into the southern facing offices.

"Where are you going Jack?" Nora crossed her arms.

"To find out what's happening." He answered her with a shrug and a nod to the helmet in his hand.

"Jack, I don't think you need to go anywhere. Just stay here."

Jack just stared back, mouth shut.

"Jack," she insisted again, "What are you doing?"

Jack sighed, casting about for a solid reason why he would need to physically go to the site they could see from the window. "The plane crashes are going to be the business of the federal government but what happens now, on the ground, is something we're going to have to make sense of eventually. It's going to be chaos out there and it'll be near impossible to sort it all out and understand who did what and what they were experiencing through mere word of mouth down the road."

Nora walked up to him until she was encroaching his personal space so much so that she had to bend her neck up in order to look him in the eye.

"Jack, there is _no reason_ for you to go out there. We don't have any real handle on what is going on yet. It's not safe and whatever value you think you'll get by being out there isn't worth it."

Jack sighed. "I'm just going to go down to where they are organizing the evacuation of the buildings. Whoever is behind this already hit both of the towers with a plane; the chances of another attack happening there now are practically non-existent. Heck, NYPD Mobile Command at the base of those buildings is probably the safest place in the whole city right now."

"Jack...you're rationalizing. And I'm not completely sure you have any real idea what you're doing. Listen to me, it's just not safe...it can't be."

"Just like any major crime scene the responsible thing to do is to be there and see what I can for myself. I know it's not the same but just like the officers and firefighters who are already down there I feel as if I have an obligation to be there. The reason they give us badges is because we are officers of the court and should go to the scenes of major cases. This qualifies."

Nora didn't move, regarding Jack with the piercing look of a teacher. He shifted impatiently.

"Nora, what do you want from me? I'm not going to sit here and wait for a memo saying the courts are closed and I'm not going to sit at home watching the news. Call it insatiable curiosity if you prefer to think I'm foolish. But there is nothing I could do here that would be more valuable than being down there."

Nora sighed and looked down at the floor.

"I'm certainly not going to stop you Jack." She stepped forward and put her hand on his arm, "Just be careful. Okay?"

Jack offered grimace of a grin, "Of course Nora." He covered her hand on his arm with his own, gave her a nod and then turned and continued out of the offices. Nora didn't move until the elevator doors had slid shut and Jack was obscured from her view.


	3. The Dust Settles

Wednesday evening found Nora sitting at her desk unable to focus on the tasks in front of her. The courts were still closed as was much of the city but she had been called upon in to assist the mayor's office in the organization and distribution of the resources that were flowing into the city.

It was nearly 36 hours after the attacks and still no one was certain what the future was going to look like but one thing was certain; it wasn't going to be simple or easy for anyone.

At the moment she was pushing her way through registering one of the emergency donation lines with an expedited 501c3 status so that the influx of cash from around the world would be legally protected in the days ahead once the chaos settled. The work was simple and mind numbing and certainly below her level but it was important work and there was no one else in the office.

Most had stayed the day yesterday, not working but just being together. After the towers collapsed the debris cloud had enveloped the building in an eerie darkness and any staff who hadn't yet left elected to stay secure in the building until the official evacuation notice came through. She didn't know when the courts would resume business but she was in no hurry. She knew work attendance would be low in the coming weeks. There would be plenty of memorials to attend and plenty of grieving to do. Even the rare few of the staff who did not personally know someone directly involved were still burdened with coming to terms with recent events. She was determined to give the staff a wide berth.

However, of all the people in the building who worked for her there was one whose whereabouts _was_ a concern to her. When she heard noises coming from the office next door she sighed with relief. She quickly finished the item she was working on and got up and walked across the hall.

She leaned in the doorway and watched him quietly for a moment. His back was to her and his head was bowed, reading something on the small table on the far side of the office.

She didn't really want to acknowledge how worried she had been about him or how relieved she was to see him. After a moment she cleared her throat to let him know he wasn't alone, "Jack..." He stiffened at her voice.

Her relief turned out to be short lived when he turned to face her. The resemblance was strong enough that it took her a moment to realize she wasn't looking at her Executive Assistant but it didn't take long for her to realize her mistake. He was maybe an inch shorter with a slighter build, noticeably darker hair and a smoother face.

The two stood in momentary silence. Nora took a deep breath, unsure of what to say and distracted by crushing disappointment.

The man was the first to break the silence. "You must be Ms. Lewin." He stated solemnly without moving from his position on the far side of the cluttered table.

Nora nodded, "I am." She had a feeling that she knew who this man was but she wanted to wait and see what he would offer.

He clasped his hands in front of him and cast his eyes about the room. "Well," He brought his attention back to the District Attorney in the doorway, "I'm sorry, I didn't think anyone else was here. I'm Patrick...eh, Patrick McCoy."

Nora nodded, "I would have guessed something like that. Jack's brother?"

He nodded slowly, then, seemingly distracted he moved across the office to the shelf behind the desk. He picked up the sail boat. He stared at it in his hands for a few moments and before turning back to Nora, casually playing with the string hanging off the mast. "I'm sorry if I'm not supposed to be up here but I'm looking for him. I don't suppose he's here and just choosing to avoid his office?"

She smiled sadly and shook her head, "No, I'm sorry. He's not here."

Her pursed his lips in a familiar manner. "I haven't heard from him at all." Nora felt her mouth go dry. "Ms. Lewin, **_no one_** has heard from him. Madeline is in Toronto and hasn't heard from him, neither have any of our siblings or my kids. Rebecca called me asking after him. I even called Ellen. I stopped by his place before coming here. He wasn't there either."

His hands stilled and he looked at her imploringly with sad, dark eyes.

Nora spoke quietly, "I'm sorry. I wish I could tell you he had called in today but he hasn't. Why don't you come with me to my office across the hall, I can get you a drink and we can talk."

He took a shaky breath and focused his attention back to the small sailboat in his hands. When he spoke again there was an edge of desperation in his voice, "I know that sometimes he has to travel for his job. And sometimes he travels all over the city meeting with people at their offices. Do you know...is it possible...what I mean is that at the very least can you tell me where he wasn't yesterday morning?"

The fear in the other man's voice broke Nora's heart and she hesitated to answer him but she sensed he would not budge without an answer. "I can't tell you that I know where he is now but I can tell you he was here yesterday morning."

Patrick's eyes flew to hers with her final words. She swore she could hear his heart beat faster. She smiled sadly, knowing she had to tell him the rest of the story.

"Why don't we go over here and sit for a moment?" She motioned toward her office.

He was still for a moment and then nodded. He started to follow her, stopped to turn and place the wooden boat on the desk. He paused, regarding the office contents for another moment and then followed Nora across the hall.

She indicated the upholstered chairs, "Please have a seat. Can I get you a drink? I have scotch and brandy."

Patrick shook his head, "Thank you, no. I don't drink. Water maybe?" Nora nodded and poured a glass from the pitcher on the stand.

She sat across from him in one of the upright chairs and sipped her own drink. After a moment she commented "I'm honestly surprised you managed to get in, half of Manhattan is literally closed down."

He shrugged in a familiar manner. "I'm not about to claim it was easy. I had to go all the way up to Throgs Neck to get off Long Island and then leave my car up by Lincoln Center. Everything past 14th is under a barricade." He paused and looked into his glass. "But when it's important...walking a few blocks doesn't seem so difficult."

Nora smiled, "Well, I don't suppose it would. You're close to your brother?"

Patrick nodded and smiled. "You could say that. I mean, he's my big brother but beside that he's one of my oldest friends in New York. I came to the city a couple of years before he did when I was doing my undergrad at Columbia. JJ started at NYU Law my junior year. We shared an apartment not far from here in the Lower East Side up until he and Ellen moved in together."

Nora smiled at the thought of the young McCoy brothers and allowed herself to be momentarily distracted, "JJ?" she asked.

The other McCoy's eyes darkened for a flash. "Yeah, to Ma and the rest of us he's always been JJ. Jack was the name that our father and his friends dubbed him."

Nora mused, "I never knew that."

Patrick shrugged "I don't suppose many people do." He put down his glass and wiped his hands on his jeans. "I really should be getting on. I need to keep on seeing if I can track him. You don't happen to know if he's got his hands on a cell phone I haven't heard about yet, do you? Or have any other idea where I might look? A coworker or someone he might be with?"

Nora looked down at the coffee table, still covered with the trial calendar they had been reviewing yesterday morning. She sighed heavily, "Mr. McCoy...Patrick, there is something else I need to tell you."

The younger McCoy stilled and pierced her with a penetrating glare that was all too familiar.

Nora bit her lip then explained in a quiet, deliberate voice. "Like I said, he was here yesterday morning. We were in the middle of a meeting right here when the first plane hit. " She gestured to the papers on the table that clearly had Jack's scrawled notes in the margins.

"After the 2nd plane hit he walked out. He said he was going down there. That's the last time I saw him and I haven't heard from him since."

Patrick's eyes widened and his jaw clenched. "He went down there." he repeated in a tone just above a whisper. "After the planes hit."

He looked away and scratched at his jaw distractedly with the back of his knuckles. "Were they...was it before...I mean when he left, was it before the collapse?"

Nora found herself unable to meet his gaze. "I'm afraid so. It couldn't have been much after 9am that he left here."

When she looked up Patrick's face was frozen, his eyes locked somewhere over her shoulder. After a few moments he cleared his throat, blinked hard and pursed his mouth into a tight line. She recognized a familiar mask settling on to his features.

He heaved a deep breath, "What a jackass."

Nora let out an involuntary chuckle. Patrick rubbed the back of neck and then looked back up. "I suppose I can't get down there. Especially not now, after dark." He looked around, seeming to make up his mind about something. "I'm going to head out and go back to my brother's place and call around to the hospitals. If you hear anything can you please call me there? You have his number?"

Nora nodded.

Patrick thought for another minute, "Can I give you a few other numbers? I'll probably head back home for the night if no one has seen him."

"Of course." Nora stood and grabbed some paper and a pen from her desk and handed them over. She hesitantly placed a hand on his arm as she did. "Patrick, I'm sure he's fine. He headed down there because he felt like he needed to be there and lord knows that things have not simplified in the past 36 hours. I'm sure he just felt compelled to stay and didn't think to call. He can get awfully tunnel visioned when he's working."

Patrick snorted, "You're probably right. My big brother is probably the most resilient bastard I know. I won't believe that he's anything other than fine until I see otherwise. Doesn't mean I can't worry about him."

Nora allowed herself a small smile, "Of course."

Patrick stood up and handed her the slip of paper, "This is my home number and my work number. The one on the bottom is the mobile line for my son, John."

Nora nodded her agreement, "Of course I'll call you when I hear from him. And if I see him before you do I'll be sure to smack him for neglecting to call."

Patrick frowned pensively then reached out to shake her hand, "Thank you. Truly." He turned and walked out the door, pausing to glance into Jack's office before continuing down the hall.

Nora lowered herself behind her desk and looked out her window at the dusty haze cloud which still covered most of lower Manhattan. She took a moment to flip through her rolodex. Finding the number she was looking for she picked up the phone.

"Lieutenant Van Buren? It's Nora Lewin. I know you have a million things on your plate right now but I have a personal favor."

* * *

_A/N - I find writing original characters to be difficult so I hope that Patrick McCoy came across well. _

_As for some of the details; I have my own personal back story which I built for Jack which weaves together several of the "throw away" personal comments. For example; in my world, the friend Jamie Ross set Jack up with; Madeline, is the history professor that Adam referred to a couple of seasons later. Madeline became Jack's 2nd wife (their relationship is a factor in the rift between Jack and his daughter.) They were married for a few years and divorced when Jack was working with Serena (at one point Serena makes a comment about Jack's divorce and he defensively explains it was because he worked too many late nights. At the time the audience believed she was referring to the ex-wife already mentioned but after learning Jack had a 2nd ex-wife in "Home Sweet" 17.3 I figured it made more sense that Serena had been referring to a much more recent incident.)_

_So if there are any details or references to back story that confuses you it is likely because of my meandering imagination. I've always wanted to lay them all out in a story but I haven't figured out the plot vehicle for it yet._

_~tj_


	4. Shifting Through the Rubble

Anita stared at the phone after she hung it up. Apparently Jack McCoy was among the missing.

Son of a bitch.

The 27th precinct had been unnaturally lucky. Being uptown the 2-7 had assumed responsibility for traffic detail after the first tower was hit. As the day unraveled the precinct became responsible for flow of people and controlling public panic as people streamed uptown and across the bridges. It wasn't until well after the evacuation that members of precinct were called upon to help with the search and rescue effort. Anita had taken a sigh of relief when all officers, on and off duty, were accounted for; no one from the precinct had been downtown or caught in the collapse.

Apparently her relief had been premature. Not that he was the same as one of her officers but McCoy was a known entity around the 2-7 and despite the tendency for things to get tense on specific trials, he was generally regarded as one of the good guys. If not well liked, he was at the least respected by everyone in the house. Losing him would be another blow too close to home from a day that had already delivered too many.

Her stomach began to grow heavy with the dread which, until that phone call, had been slowly lightening as she heard about the safety of various friends and colleagues. She had not even thought to be concerned about any of the folks she worked with from Hogan Place or the Justice Department or even most folks at 1 PP. She had just assumed that they would all be safe behind granite walls with their administrative duties. She hadn't spared them a second thought.

She was interrupted from dwelling on her blossoming guilt when she noticed Lennie enter the precinct. She got up and motioned him into her office.

"Hey Lieu." He shuffled in wearily and sat on the arm of her visitor's chair.

"Lennie," she sighed, leaning back against her desk "Why don't you grab a couple of hours in the bunk room?"

He huffed. "I'm okay. The brass down there figured I'm too old for the heavy lifting, so I'm not busting my hump, just delivering water and playing chauffer. I've managed to grab a couple of hours here and there."

Anita scrutinized the senior detective before nodding her approval. He returned the favor, "What about you Lieu? I don't need to be a detective to notice you're still wearing Tuesday's outfit."

Anita grinned. "Thanks for your concern Lennie, but I'm covered." She nodded to the cot set up on the far side of her desk.

"Ahh, deskside accommodations. Don't let the chief see that; they'll want to make 'em standard issue." Lennie quipped.

Anita smiled.

"Well Lieu, I'm about to grab another dozen cases and bring 'em down to The Pile. Was there something you needed from me?" Lennie stood and stepped to the doorway.

Anita sighed and braced the palms of her hands back against her desk. "Before you came in I got a call from the DA."

Lennie snorted. "Did you tell her that all investigations are on hold?"

Anita smiled. "No, there was no need. She called about something else." She frowned pensively before continuing, "Lennie, in your time downtown have you seen McCoy at all?"

Lennie arched his eyebrows, "Jack? No, was I supposed to?"

Anita shook her head, "No. Lewin called because he's missing. He went down there after the second plane hit and she hasn't heard from him since."

Lennie blinked and blew out a slow breath. "You know, in those first few hours I hear it was pretty chaotic. Does she know if he actually ended up there? They guessed there might be some kind of collapse and were doing a lot to keep from people from getting close. Jack's got family out on the island, I bet he just got himself out of dodge and for once forgot about work."

Anita grimaced and shook her head slowly. "The reason Lewin called was because McCoy's brother stopped by Hogan Place. He hasn't heard from him either."

Lennie took a deep breath and leaned back, distracted in thought. "Shoot. Okay, well just because I didn't see him doesn't mean he wasn't there. It's a big place and there are a lot of people. I'm going to load up another carload of water and head back. I'll ask around when I drop it off and then I'll take a drive. There are a couple of different HQs and some volunteer tents and stations. If he's still down there that's probably where he's hanging out."

Anita nodded quietly. She glanced around the near empty squad room. "I'll come with you."

* * *

An hour later they pulled into the command post the 2-7 was working out of. A few officers approached to help Lennie with the cases of water as Anita slowly got out of the car, surveying the scene in front of her.

She hadn't said anything to Lennie but this was the first time she had been to ground zero or "The Pile" as it was being called by the response workers. The closer they got to the site the crisp September breeze was replaced by a warm, heavy haze and the smell of burning permeated the air. She could make out some camera crews along the perimeter. She knew nearly all the stations had become dedicated 24 hour news and the standing flight restrictions were the only reason that no helicopters were hovering overhead. Flood lights illuminated the lines of men moving three sky scrapers a bucket at a time.

A group of men, hair matted down and faces caked with dirt, sat on a curb next to a table that had a few cardboard boxes of coffee. Some were drinking bottles of water others were leaning against the fire truck dozing or taking turns with the O2 tank. She noticed most had blue dust masks hanging from their necks. A dog was laying out next to them, lapping water from an upturned fire helmet someone had laid out.

Despite the hundreds of people and the constant movement it felt oddly still and quiet. There wasn't much talk to be heard other than the occasional instruction or order, even Lennie remained solemnly quiet. Anita supposed the most upsetting quiet was from the half dozen dogs she could see from her position. They were trained SnR dogs and they would't bark unless they found something.

On the ride over Lennie had told her how Liz Rodgers had first arrived yesterday, offering her services as a doctor to those who were injured but she was back in the role as a coroner by nightfall because there simply weren't enough survivors. The ME had even speculated that the city would for once actually have a surplus of donated blood due to the number of well intentioned citizens and the limited real need because of the low survival rate. Anita found herself praying to hear one of those dogs bark.

She tried to remember what this place had looked like the last time she was here, just last Friday. Her insurance company had been on the 5th floor of the South Tower. Reggie, her agent was another one who previously hadn't been on her list of people she thought to worry about, but now she did. She tried to take a deep breath to clear away the realization that his office, and hundreds more like it, with all their contents, was simply gone. The dusty air made her cough and forced the tears to the front of her eyes.

Lenny came up beside her, "Sorry, I suppose I should have warned you about that. Try not to breathe too deep. Not only does it hurt but I guess folks are saying there are some nasty things in the air. They have masks in the tent if you want one."

She shook her head. "I'm fine. I just need a moment."

Lennie nodded but didn't say anything. After a few minutes she spoke again without looking at him,

"It's so absolute. I can't believe everything is just gone. It doesn't even look like New York. I can't believe this happened here."

Lennie nodded, "It was an act of war. You saw the papers this morning? They're calling this the second day of infamy."

Anita didn't say anything. Lennie dragged his hands across his face. "I asked around. No one here has seen McCoy."

Anita looked at him, responding in a whisper, "If he was here...I can't understand how anyone survived this."

Lennie turned around and planted his hands on the hood of the car. "But people have, and there are still more survivors under this rubble. Just a few hours ago half a ladder company came up. They'd been stuck in a caved in hallway on the first floor. All are not lost."

Anita nodded, "Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope."

Lennie smirked, "Sorry, I must have missed that day at Sunday school." The two cops smiled sadly at each other.

After a moment Lennie straightened, "Tell you what Lieu, I'm going to be doing some relief work out for the guys in the bucket lines, why don't you take the car and cruise around? There are at least a dozen stations like this one and I haven't even been to the North side. Proffacci's supposed to be coming in with the guys who were bunking at the station around 10. I'll take his car back when he shows up." Anita accepted the keys he held out for her and nodded her thanks.

"Oh, and Lieu?" He called as she was getting into the car, "When you find McCoy, do me a favor and smack him for me?"

She smiled, "Gladly."

She caught him watching her go in the rearview mirror and knew that despite his hopeful words that he was worried too. She was one of the very few who had a little understanding of the strange friendship between her detective and the EADA. She knew that if she couldn't find McCoy that Briscoe would not hear it well.

It was unfair to pile this on to him, e already had lost too many friends and former colleagues in the past two days; his old precinct was one of the ones initially called to the towers and she knew he had lost an old captain and an officer he had trained as a rookie. She figured that was likely the real reason he had been relegated to the busy work for the relief station. Standing in a bucket line left too much room to let your mind wander and dwell. She wondered how much loss a person was supposed to bear in a single instance. She only hoped she wouldn't have any more bad news to bring back to him.

* * *

It was nearly 11 o'clock by the time Anita pulled into the first relief station of the North tower. She had visited all of the stations around the South tower and had helped shuffle some supplies around but had yet to find anyone who could recall seeing the lawyer. She steeled herself for the same rote conversations as she pulled in and shut off the engine.

The station was much like the others; a couple of tables with dusty donuts and stands of coffee and water was off to one side and a pile of buckets, sledge hammers and other tools piled up in a corner. A group of brass surrounded a generator and a table in the middle which had papers and radio charging stations strewn across its surface. The expected group of exhausted workers was sitting to the side in various stages of wakefulness while others moved rubble to a dump truck idling not far away.

She approached the table with the officers but backed off when it became clear that tempers were getting high over something. She suspected that these men had not slept much or eaten well in the past two days, not to mention the emotional strain of grief and responsibility they were all shouldering. She didn't blame anyone for getting short over minor things, but she worried about the potential results if too many of the decision makers were pushed too much further to their limit.

She regarded the resting men while she waited for tempers to calm down. It appeared that this station was primarily a Fire Department position as most of the men were in blue and grey FDNY sweatshirts or the standard black and yellow jackets. Anita felt her heart speed up when she realized that in fact, all of the men were wearing FDNY apparel, all _except for one_.

A few men were lying in the mulch under what was once an ornamental tree. One of the reclining men was facing away from her, partially on his side, propped against the base of the tree. He was wearing dirty jeans and what was once a white dress shirt.

As Anita got closer she noted that unlike the rest of the boot clad men this one was wearing a pair of wing tipped dress shoes. The shirt was filthy and torn; one sleeve was missing in its entirety and appeared to be wrapped around his hand which he held clutched to his chest. She held her breath as she rounded the tree to see his face. The dirt and dust was caked on so deep that not a space of skin was could be seen and there was no way to tell the color of his matted hair. There were smudges where he had obviously tossed water over his eyes but the grime was so thorough that at first she couldn't be certain. She knelt closer and slowly released her breath when she realized that this indeed was the man she had been looking for. She lightly placed her fingers on the side of his neck and happily felt the strong steady pulse which confirmed for her that he really was just sleeping.

"Lieutenant!" startled, she jumped up and turned to see one of the officers calling her back to the table. "Was there something you wanted?" She spared a second to glance back at the sleeping lawyer, as if to ensure he wouldn't disappear before turning back and approaching the man who had called to her.

"I'm actually all set now, although if you don't mind I am going to kidnap one of your crew." The man, who appeared to be an engine chief, looked to where Anita had indicated.

"Who? Jack? Go ahead. The guys been here since before I showed up yesterday. Only just lay down a little while ago. Lord knows he's earned a real bed, I can't imagine sleeping on the ground is good for men our age."

Anita smiled for what felt like the first time all night. "I'm sure it's not. I'll actually be doing you a favor, you'll be spared his foul mood when he wakes up and refuses to admit that he hurts."

The chief laughed, "Friend of yours?"

Anita shrugged, "Let's just say I am well aware of how stubborn that man is."

The chief smirked and nodded his head. "Well we all know folks like that, don't we? So not a friend, huh? Who is he then? I get the feeling he's not a cop...even the more well dressed detectives wear more sensible shoes than that. I'm amazed he hasn't broken an ankle."

Anita shook her head, "Nope, not one of my guys. That there is Jack McCoy; the 'Executive Assistant District Attorney.'" She put his title in air quotes and smiled.

The chief looked surprised, "You don't say. You know I thought he looked familiar, wasn't he the one who convicted that Hollywood director a few years ago?"

Anita nodded, "The one and only."

The chief looked impressed, "Well damn. I certainly will have to hold a higher regard for lawyers now thanks to him. Go ahead and take the good counselor home. He needs his rest; we're going to be done removing this mess here in a few months but I have a feeling that Mr. McCoy and the courts are going to be busy cleaning up after this disaster for years to come."

Anita smiled sadly, not yet willing to consider the truth of the chief's words. She thanked him then returned to the sleeping DA.

She approached softly, not wanting to disturb the other sleeping men.

"McCoy...McCoy...Jack. Wake up Jack." He was out cold. She grabbed his shoulder and patted his cheek. "Jack!"

He started and relaxed, slowly blinking his eyes open. "Lieutenant?" He croaked.

"Yup." She smiled at him, "Come on with me, I've got a car."

He stared at her dumbly for a moment and she wondered if he had heard her. "Come on," she repeated, "This way."

"Okay." Was all he said before he accepted her hand up. He arched his back and rotated his shoulders and then lumbered in the direction she indicated without comment.

She nodded a final acknowledgment to the chief and followed Jack to the car. He was standing, head bowed at the passenger door.

"It's unlocked." He nodded and opened the door.

She followed him into the car and started the engine. She spared him a glance over her shoulder as she backed out. His head was bowed, eyes focused on his fidgeting fingers.

"You've got people worried about you, Counselor." Jack heaved a deep sigh and leaned his head back.

"Madeline?"

"Among others."

He looked at her, questioning.

"Nora Lewin called me after she received an office visit from a certain Patrick McCoy."

"Crap." He rubbed his face. "He's going to kill me."

Anita smiled, "Well, he'll have to get in line. I also have orders from Briscoe to slap you upside your smart-ass head. I can't say that wouldn't give me much satisfaction myself."

Jack huffed a chuckle which turned into a cough. Anita glanced at him worriedly but said nothing.

"I guess I lost track of time."

Anita nodded, was about to ask him what had happened to him but held her tongue when Jack shifted and coughed again.

"You know Counselor, I think I was initially going to drive you home but maybe it's not a great idea?"

She met his eyes looking for a response. He said nothing but looked ahead, unseeing. With his mouth down turned into a frowning pout he looked like a lost boy; upset but unwilling or unable to say what was bothering him.

She tried a more leading tactic, "Between that cough and whatever it is you did to your hand perhaps we should be going to a hospital?"

Jack shook his head and replied sternly, "I'm fine. No hospital."

The lieutenant considered arguing with him but decided against it. "The precinct then. You can wash up and grab a cot in the bunk room. We have first aid for your hand as well as O2, it may be a good idea for you have some nearby given you've been breathing that air for two days."

At first Anita thought the weary man would deny that plan as well but he surprised her when he remained quiet, mutely nodding his assent, keeping his eyes on the road.

Anita stole a glance at him, dirty, disheveled and shoulders slumped. She got the feeling that he didn't care about his racking cough or his injured hand but that the reason he agreed to come to the station was that perhaps he didn't want to be alone. She blinked back her emotion and decided that was alright with her, she didn't feel like being alone either and if he wasn't going to take care of himself she would drag forward her maternal instincts and see to it that he was ok.

"I have to take the long way back, why don't you see if you can catch a little shut eye?"

McCoy glanced at her and again nodded without saying a word. He closed his eyes and shifted until his forehead leaned upon the window. The change in position caused him to cough again and Anita to worry again.

He settled down quickly and they drove the rest of the way through the dark and deserted streets in silence.


	5. Clearing the Air

By the time they arrived at the 2-7 Jack was solidly dozing and Anita had to give his shoulder a violent shake in order to wake him.

He blinked blearily and shook his head in an effort rouse himself. When he regained awareness and stiffly unfolded himself from the car he took a moment to try and stretch out his neck. Van Buren patiently waited for him at the steps of the precinct.

He looked up at her, hand on the back of his neck. "Lieutenant? When we get inside I'd like to borrow a phone if you don't mind."

"Of course." Anita agreed, "You can use the one in my office. But why don't you wash up first? I'll send someone in with a clean shirt for you."

He grimaced, nodded and indicated she should lead the way inside.

"You know where you're going counselor?" She placed her hand on his shoulder.

He nodded and pointed down the hall toward the men's locker room. "Think so, this way?"

She nodded and left him to go on his way as she continued to her office.

She saw Lennie as soon as she entered the squad room. He was collecting something from his desk, short sleeve unbuttoned and hair unusually ruffled. She noticed him pause his movements and look up when she entered the room. His gaze moved past her and settled on the doorway. She knew he was looking to see if McCoy was with her. When the doorway remained empty Lennie's shoulders slumped slightly.

Without any other indication of his disappointment he redirected his attention to Van Buren, "Hey Lieu, I'm heading home for a few hours. I'll be back between here and there around day break."

She smiled at him. "Of course, don't worry about rushing back. The department is moving into 12 hour shifts for the foreseeable future; Don't consider yourself on duty until 10am. Where's Ed?"

Lennie indicated the bunk room with his head. "Sacked out."

"Good." Anita quickly added that information to her mental roster of her people.

Lennie continued gathering his jacket. Anita stopped him with a touch to his arm as he moved past her on his way toward the door.

"Do me a favor on your way out Detective?"

Lennie stopped, "Of course."

She smiled at him, "Can you swing by the storage closet? See if we have any large or extra large PAL t-shirts in there. Actually, if we have any sweat pants that would be good too. If you could drop those off at the men's locker room I'm sure it would be appreciated."

Lennie's eyebrows crawled up his forehead, "McCoy?"

"Yup. He should be washing up in there now." Anita nodded.

A ghost of a smile crept over the older officer's face. He took a deep breath and nodded.

"Of course, no problem Lieu."

Anita sighed and watched Lennie walk down the hall toward the storage closet before turning and heading back to her own office.

Twenty minutes later Anita was pulled from the strategy memo she was reviewing by the sound of what was becoming a familiar cough. She looked up to see a damp McCoy padding toward her through the squad room. He was barefoot, carrying his shoes and wearing a blue NYPD t-shirt that was too big and sweat pants which were too short. Flat wet hair flopped on his forehead and he had the dark stubble of a thick beard coming in. Anita thought she had never seen him look better.

He entered her office and unceremoniously dropped into the chair next to the door. He sighed deeply and smirked at Anita. "Thank you Lieutenant. I think it's safe to say I've never appreciated a shower more."

Anita offered a small smile, while "Well you certainly look more like yourself; beard notwithstanding."

Jack grimaced and rubbed at his chin with the back of his fingers. Anita used the opportunity to appraise him more carefully. There were some small cuts and scrapes on his forearms and a small one on the side of his neck but otherwise he seemed to be in one piece, aside from the wrapped hand. Satisfied that he wasn't going to collapse anytime soon she gestured to her desk phone.

"Here, call who you need to, then we'll see what we can do with your hand."

Jack nodded and wordlessly approached the phone. He dialed a number from memory and stood with his head bowed. Despite the late hour it apparently didn't ring long. Jack responded to the voice on the other end of the line in a soft, apologetic tone, "_Hey. It's J. Sorry, I know it's late..._"

Anita quietly excused herself from the office for the duration of the call. A few minutes later she returned carrying the station first aid kit. Jack was still standing by the desk although no longer on the phone. He startled when Anita entered the room and immediately turned away. She pretended not to notice as he scrubbed at his eyes and took some controlling breaths. When he began to cough again she looked up.

"Can I help with that at all? Do you want me to grab the oxygen? Or maybe just a bottle of water?"

Jack shook his head, "I'm fine. I'll grab some water before I lie down but I'm okay now."

"Mhm." Anita glared at him with an appraising eye. "Okay, well, I'll pretend to accept that for now. Bring that chair over here and then sit and give me your hand."

Jack hesitated for less than a moment before acquiescing. He laid his arm across the desk providing her access to his hand, palm up. He flinched involuntarily as the Lieutenant removed the paper towel he had wrapped it in after his shower.

At her first site of the wound Anita clucked under breath as only a mother can. It was an ugly cut, just over two inches long, the edges were dried and ragged. It was deep enough that she thought she could see bone although she couldn't be sure as the cut was still caked with dirt and debris.

"I see you neglected to clean _**this**_ when you cleaned up." she commented dryly.

"It hurt." Jack pouted. He tensed and faced away as she gingerly began to remove gravel and dirt.

She paused and looked up at his uncomfortable expression, "Counselor, are you squeamish?"

He turned sharply to glare at her. "No." He insisted a little too forcefully.

She laughed. "Boys never do grow up, do you? Don't pout Jack. Case in point, stop squirming."

He grumbled but forced himself to relax although he couldn't prevent involuntarily flinching as Anita slowly cleaned out the cut.

"How did you do this?" She didn't look up from her focus.

"Nothing serious really, tried to pull up a piece of rebar. It slipped, I slipped, the edge was sharp. End of story." Jack's tone was casual, as if discussing what he had for lunch. Anita suspected the casual response was a front but didn't say anything, continuing her work.

"OUCH!" He yanked his arm back when she hit a particularly tender spot.

"McCoy, I swear to god if you don't stop resisting me I'm going to get Tony Profacci out here to sit on your arm." Jack huffed at her but she stared him down and after a moment he relented, sighing in resignation and returning his hand to Anita's mercy.

"So," She started quietly and evenly, "You slipped. Are there any other injuries you should have looked at?"

Jack rolled his eyes and shook his head, "I'm fine."

It was Anita's turn to roll her eyes. "Counselor, jerk me around if you really want but it's late. I'm tired and I _know_ you're tired. Do you think you can find it in that ego of yours to realize I'm trying to help you here and maybe make it easier than pulling teeth for me?"

Jack's eyebrows arched in surprise at Anita's frustration. He shamefully cast his eyes down when Anita spoke again in a gentler manner. "Look, don't insult my intelligence here. I know you still do that basketball thing and think you're still 25 or something riding around on that motorcycle but going to the gym once a week doesn't change the fact that you are pushing 60 years old and spend your days sitting behind a desk but for the past two days you have been out running collapsing buildings and working in a rubble yard with men half your age with no sleep and probably not a lot to eat. Sorry if I don't believe you when you brush me off with '_I'm fine_'"

Jack sunk lower in his chair and bowed his head. When Anita did not release her gaze he let out a grumble and then spoke up again reluctantly and quietly, "At one point yesterday I thought I may have broke a rib but it hasn't bothered me for hours and I'm fairly certain it's nothing to worry about. I admit that I'm sore and will have some nice bruises but there's nothing that won't be fine with some heavy doses of Advil and a day or two of doing nothing but sleeping on the couch and enjoying my sister-in-law's home cooking."

Anita regarded him for a moment, searching his face for any indication that he was lying. Unfortunately he was inscrutable.

"Well, I guess I can accept that. Although you know you should probably get an x-ray. And as for this," she indicated his hand, "I don't know how well I can do here. You really need stitches Jack. Not to mention a tetanus shot. Probably a prescription for an antibiotic too. We really should talk about taking a ride to an ER."

Jack vehemently shook his head, shaking droplets of water across the room. "Absolutely not. I'm not walking in there with a scratch when they have real injuries to tend to."

Anita clenched his wrist a little harder, taking a moment to search for the words that might convince him otherwise.

Seeming to sense her thoughts he sighed, "Lieutenant, I appreciate your concern really. Look, you have butterfly strips in there, right? Just rinse it out best you can and use those to close it up as tight as you can. Tomorrow I'm going to go out to my brother's place. His wife is a nurse practitioner; She can get me the antibiotic and shot. I promise I won't allow myself to get gangrene."

Anita shook her head and but kept working.

After a few moments she spoke again, this time quietly, "Jack. Do you mind...can I ask you...What happened? After you went down there?"

Jack shifted and looked away. At first she thought he wasn't going to respond and she ducked her head, returning her focus to his hand. A few minutes of silence had past when he began in a quiet, detached voice she had never before heard from the prosecutor,

"It was a mess Lieutenant. A complete mess. You ever want to talk about feeling like you have no control over a situation..."

He drifted off. He cleared his throat and began again, "It took me a half hour to make it the dozen blocks down there on my bike. People were running from the buildings, and paper was falling from the sky; like a ticker tape parade except with full sheets of paper. Police were trying to keep it organized but it seems like each individual didn't really know what was going on...communication was a bust. A bunch of guys had come in from off duty and didn't have radios and no one knew what channel they were supposed to be on. After I got there I figured that I'd go to the main command post and see if I knew anyone there. I finally convinced some folks to let me in and I had just made it inside the Marriott lobby when I heard this noise..."

He took a deep breath and swallowed convulsively, "People were jumping Anita. You could hear the sounds of the bodies hitting the sidewalk."

He let out a shaky breath. "At that point I started to realize I had no idea what I thought I was doing there but I figured I might as well stick around and see if I could help. When I got to one of the command posts they were issuing an evacuation order for the south tower. NYPD aerial had called in that it didn't look good and was going to go down. The problem was that no one was talking to one another. The PD didn't have radio contact with Fire command. While they were trying to get officers out Fire had guys still storming into the building."

Jack took a deep breath and shook his head. "They were so busy trying to organize their own people that no one was able to get word to the Fire Department. I figured that was at least something I could do so I wandered around until I found someone from FDNY brass and told them what the police were hearing. He tried to radio it over to the Fire command post but the radios weren't working well and he couldn't tell if word got through. He told me Department Chief Ganci was over at the HQ they set up across West St so I got my bike and rode over. I had to flash my DA badge to get inside and get close to Pete Ganci but I was too late. I was in the middle of telling him about the collapse risk when we heard a sound like an earth quake. At first I thought it was a third plane but it was tower coming down."

He went quiet, lost in thought. Anita took in a shallow breath.

After a few minutes of silence Jack cleared his throat and spoke again. "Even though we were across the street the command post was decimated. I don't really know what happened all I know is that I got out of there because Ganci pushed me out. It was dark, we couldn't see or breathe and it was loud but kind of muffled at the same time. I ended up following a group of guys out to the trucks. It started to clear a little where we were and I helped some of the guys sort through the mess trying to salvage what equipment we could considering they were already short on radios."

While we were pulling everything up we heard that the PD was ordering evacuation of the North Tower through the radio of a police officer who was assisting us. A couple of other personnel and I went with Ganci back across the street in an effort to communicate with the department guys who were in the tower. We were almost there when that same god awful noise started."

I still had my helmet and stopped for a second to put it on as the initial pieces of heavy debris started to fall. When I looked back up, Giance went down. He was maybe 10 feet from me...and then the whole building came crashing from the sky. "

Jack's voice cracked and Anita could feel him shake. She looked down, she hadn't realized that she had stopped her ministrations to the cut and was instead holding his hand tightly with both of hers. She rubbed his forearm comfortingly.

"Chief Giance is dead?" She asked quietly. She hadn't known him personally but the head of the New York Fire Department was well known and well liked by many of the cities civil servants. His loss was a huge blow.

Jack nodded jerkily. He used his free hand to wipe at his face. In a halting voice he continued, "I dove underneath a nearby fire truck. I was lucky it was on a curb so I stuck up against that and just rode it out. I have no idea how long I was under there."

He breathed deeply a few times and kept his eyes focused on the floor.

They sat quietly until he surprised Anita by looking at her with a strange small grin, "I vomitted in my helmet."

Anita didn't understand why that was at all funny but she smiled back at him anyway, unsure of how else to respond to the confession.

He slouched his shoulders and shifted back in his chair and when he spoke again his tone was more conversational and almost dismissive compared to his previous narrative,

"So anyway, I think I blacked out because after however long I just wasn't under the truck anymore. One minute I was lying in the dark in a vomit smelling bike helmet and then the next I was outside, sitting on a rock and a guy I don't know was trying to get me to hold an O2 mask up."

I had to have been under there for a long while though because the sun was going down. I sat on that rock for a while and got my mind back together and stepped in with some of the guys who were clearing the rubble. That's when I hurt my hand."

When they set up the area HQ the group of us moved over there and started a bucket brigade. I never even thought of calling anyone or leaving; everything was just about what happens next and being a part of the human machine. I'm not sure how long I was there moving those buckets but at some point I just had to stop, my arms stopped listening to my brain. I didn't think of going anywhere; just found the first piece of ground that wasn't concrete and lay down. That's when you came along and whisked me away."

He looked at her and shrugged. "That's it."

Anita shook her head. "Wow Jack." She realized that despite his casual demeanor he was clutching her hand with just as much intensity as she was clutching back.

They sat in silence for a couple of minutes.

A door slammed in the squad room and voices could be heard down the hall, disrupting the stillness that followed Jack's story.

Anita breathed deeply, cleared her throat and patted the back of his hand.

"Okay, another couple of minutes and we should be all set here and then you can lie down and get some real sleep.

Jack swallowed and slowly relaxed his grip. Anita finished cleaning out the dirt and began to apply the strips. Jack flinched a few times but remained quiet and didn't try to pull back.

After a few minutes he spoke again in a light tone, "So...do you think comprehensive vehicle insurance covers a skyscraper collapsing on your motorcycle?" Anita looked up startled. She caught his eye then chuckled. Jack joined with a grin.

"I'm sorry Jack, that really sucks." She commiserated, still chuckling.

He shrugged, "It will for a little while but it could be the silver lining; I've been eyeing a new bike. It's a BMW...if insurance pays out I might actually be able to afford it."

Anita shook her head. "Let me know if you need a police report, I'll file it for you." She smiled.

She finished wrapping protective gauze around his newly bandaged hand and looked up into his tired eyes, "Now, as long as you promise you're going to get this looked at tomorrow I'd say we're done here. There should be a free cot in the bunk room, why don't you get some sleep."

Jack nodded and stood slowly, tenderly bringing his hand close to himself. "I certainly won't argue with you about that Lieutenant." He offered her a small smile and moved to walk out the door but paused with his hand on the door knob.

He turned around and looked seriously at the Lieutenant, "Anita, seriously, thank you. For everything."

She smiled in acceptance and waved him away before turning to climb onto her own cot. Despite her exhaustion it was a long time before she was able to fall asleep or stop the tears in her eyes.


	6. A New Day

The two civil servants sat in silence for a long moment; each lost in the memories of that September.

It was Jack who moved first, replacing Anita's fingers on the faded scar with his own. She watched as he ran his thumb over the mark and scrutinized it, as if seeing it for the first time.

"You know, you're the only person to whom I ever told the full story of what happened that day." He commented in a rough voice, still looking at his own palm.

Anita's eyebrows arched. "No one? Not even your brother? Or Madeline?"

Jack dropped his hands to his lap and gave Anita a small, sad smile. "Madeline didn't want to hear any of it. She wanted to pretend like the whole day never happened and I certainly wasn't going to push her. Pat asked but I brushed him off. He's always been content to ignore the details as long as I allowed him to feel like he was helping to put the pieces back together."

Anita nodded her head in understanding. McCoy was a guy who kept a lot of things pent up and she could see him not being eager to relive the story he had told her that night. However she had seen enough in her years as a cop to know that certain things need to be discussed and released.

Cocking her head to the side she decided to give into herself and see how far she could push the seemingly indomitable DA, "So how much does anyone know about what you did that day?"

He just shrugged, as if the subject held little interest to him.

The lieutenant rolled her eyes. "Good answer counselor. Seriously Jack. Does anyone other than your family, myself and Briscoe even know you were down there? That you got caught in not one but both of the collapses because you were trying to help fire fighters know what was happening? That even after you were in shock you stayed for over 24 hours alongside them digging through rubble until you could barely stand? That you refused medical attention because you didn't want to take the attention or resources that might be spent on others?"

To her frustration he just shrugged again. Seeing her look he tried to explain, "To whom would I tell that story and to what end? After all this time it hardly matters any way."

Anita shook her head. "What about during the election; when FDNY endorsed Chappell? Where do we think the Governor's buddy was on 9-11? Was he on the ground with the fire fighters then? Or do we think he made his way to his safe little house in Albany while you were slicing your hand on rebar? Don't you think that the FDNY should have known the whole story before they picked sides? That they should have known who was with Chief Gianci..."

Jack cut her off with an intense, angry glare "Being near a great man when he is senselessly killed is nothing to brag about; especially not to win an election. I was an idiot who went somewhere he didn't belong and then didn't have enough sense to leave. The fire department union has the right to make whatever decisions they want based upon whatever criteria they want. Men died Anita. They died going into those buildings to save people. Even after the first tower came down they still chose to keep climbing the other tower because they thought they could save more lives. And almost all who went in paid with their own. The ones who didn't, stayed in that pile of rubble and fire for more than just a day, they stayed for months digging and cleaning when the rest of us barely had the capability to comprehend what happened and never would have had a clue as to where to start!"

Anita was quiet for a moment, giving Jack an opportunity to collect himself. Before she had an opportunity to speak Jack began again, quietly this time although with a steel edge to his tone.

"They had lost their best friends and family in that hell but they stayed there day after day doing back breaking and emotionally devastating work. They kept searching for hope and fought to keep frustration and despair at bay. Even after the job was done they weren't allowed to leave it behind. In the past decade they have had to fight depression and PTSD, cancer and emphysema not to mention the insurance companies and congress. Meanwhile I have continued my comfy little life right here in this building same as before. For me it is like a missing couple of days, as if I blinked and woke up on September 14th; for them, life has never been the same, it has dominated their existence. I have no right to try and assert myself into that experience for any reason and certainly not for their votes. I respect them too much for that."

Anita waited; wanting to be sure that McCoy had said his peace. After a moment she spoke, ensuring to make eye contact with him as she did.

"I agree, using that day to win votes in an election would have been wrong and certainly beneath you. However, I think you don't place enough value in your own actions. Nora told me you said you could possibly do more there than by sitting in your office. The members of FDNY and NYPD went down there and stayed down there because it was their job and obligation. When they went through the academy they knew they would be expected to run to tragedy and into fires. It doesn't make them any less impressive but the fact is that they were trained to be prepared to make those choices. It was their job to thrust themselves into danger in order to serve our community. You did not have to. At each moment you had a choice and you choose to try and find a way to help despite the danger around you. I don't think you should have shared the story so you can claim to be brethren with the first responders but I think that your actions and the choices you made that day show the kind of man you genuinely are and that the people would have been well served to know that. I think that people like David Jeffries would be a lot less likely to spout their mouth off if they knew."

Jack pursed his lips, mulling over Anita's words in his head. Fearing his rare self-doubt Anita spoke again before he had a chance to formulate a response.

"And I really think you're selling yourself short Jack. No, you weren't at The Pile for the months of clean-up but you were there for almost the entirety of the first 2 days and then when you came back to 'normal life' you couldn't go anywhere without being explicitly reminded about what was going on. You talk about the first responders dealing with depression and PTSD and other issues and I wonder about the dissolution of your marriage. I wonder about how I noticed you keeping a scotch glass on your desk again after not seeing it for years. I also wonder about your health...I know I was concerned about that cough you were carrying around after. Did you ever get yourself really checked out by someone who knew you spent 2 days breathing in that crap?"

Jack bowed his head and focused on his fingers intertwined in the space between his knees. He shrugged but then looked up when he realized Anita was looking at him expectantly.

"You actually want me to answer that?" He asked in a tone of voice crossed between incredulous and amused.

"Actually, yes I do." Anita replied in a matching tone. "For some ridiculous reason I can't seem to stop myself from caring."

Jack raised his eyebrows and smirked. However, something happened between his brain and his mouth and instead of smart-alec answer to navigate the conversation back to neutral ground he paused. By some strange twist of fate Anita was someone whom he had never lied to or mislead and he found himself loathe to begin now in response to her compassion. Reluctantly, he found himself telling the truth. "My doctor thinks that whole thing may be a contributing factor to my migraines. They started up not too long after that. But I'm okay otherwise."

Anita nodded. A little surprised that he indulged her and perhaps a little curious she decided to keep pushing, "And Madeline?"

"Jesus Lieutenant." Jack leaned his head back and sighed in resignation. "Yes, I guess you could say that whole incident was a contributing factor. She wanted to act like it never happened and I guess it contributed to a communication breakdown. I went back to working later; after that day the justice system was the one place I could help make a difference and have an element of control. Madeline felt distant without knowing why and I couldn't explain any of it to her and I didn't particularly want to; kind of like I don't particularly want to be doing right now."

Anita smiled and patted him on the shoulder. "Alright counselor, I'm sorry. That was too personal. I could push you about the drinking but I'm actually not so worried about that so I'll let you off the hook and out of the interrogation."

He let out an amused huff. "Well thank you Lieutenant. And you really don't need to worry, although it is accepted with a token of appreciation."

Knowing she had went way beyond their typical boundaries Anita felt the need to explain herself. "Well hopefully you'll appreciate why I find myself worrying. You know when you tell me I'm the only person you've told about your little adventure that puts a lot of responsibility on my shoulders. The entirety of the FDNY and NYPD had to speak to a specialist at least once after 9-11 and squads and partners are told of things to look for and we take responsibility for each other, pushing folks to talk about things before they manifest into actual problems. If you don't want me bugging you to make sure you're ok you should try talking to someone else. Even after all this time it probably wouldn't be a bad thing."

Jack nodded thoughtfully, "Rebecca actually asked about it not long ago. Perhaps I will call her; she never got along with Madeline and she thinks even less of her now since the divorce. It might be good for her to understand my role in the dissolution of that relationship."

Anita nodded, "As long as you make sure she knows the good you did. I shouldn't be the only one who knows that Jack McCoy is a genuine good guy!"

Jack rolled his eyes and pushed himself up off the sofa. "Well Lieutenant you've missed a detail. Despite my best efforts you're not the only one who carries that opinion about what occurred that day."

Anita looked at Jack in confusion. "What are you talking about? You said…"

He cut her off for the second time, "What I said was you were the only person whom I've _told_. I did not say you were the only person who _knew_." He proceeded to his desk where he pulled out an envelope from the top drawer and held it out for Van Buren. "I received this a few days before the election."

Anita took the envelope and unfolded the short letter within.

"Mr. McCoy,

You may not remember me but I was heading up the command post that you working out of on September 12, 2001. I remember you from that day and I remember my shock when that Lieutenant friend of yours told me you were a lawyer. I was even more surprised when I realized you were the DA folks have been talking about. I know the department has endorsed the other guy and that the union is saying we should vote for him but I wanted you to know that I'm making sure that all the guys who were at that command post with us put the pieces together and realize who you are. For the first time I'm going to go against the suggestion of the union and I'll be voting for you when I enter that voting booth. It's nice to see a good man in politics for once.

~Greg McNally

FDNY Deputy Assistant Chief (Ret.)"

Anita looked up at Jack after she finished reading the letter. "Why in the world would you let a stupid comment by David Jeffries bother you when you have a letter like that in your desk!?"

He shrugged and smirked in response, "I guess until now I never really made the connection of how either would be relevant to the other."

Anita shook her head. "I thought you were supposed be smart."

Jack walked up to her and put a hand on her shoulder, "Naw, it's an illusion created by just hard work and having some very helpful friends without whom I'd probably be lost; literally." He gave her shoulder a quick squeeze and flashed a knowing smile. "Now, I need to make my way across town to spend an evening of dull conversation with people who simply pretend to be friends."

Anita smiled back, "That's your prize for winning the election counselor. Maybe if you didn't make a habit of deliberately pissing them off you could actually enjoy these functions." Anita retorted.

Jack's smirk morphed into a devilish grin. Anita scruitinized the lawyer turned politician. It was the look she had seen when hatching a plan. "What?"

Jack planted a hand on the edge of his desk and leaned closer to Van Buren and spoke with an air of conspiracy, "It's too much fun to go after these arrogant sons of bitches who live under an illusion of immunity. I intend to continue to piss off the corrupt in this town on a regular basis, they've been asking for it. There is a lot of clean up to be done around here and not a lot of time to do it."

Anita shook her head. She agreed with him; the crime rate on the streets had plummeted in recent years and now the most heinous crimes all seemed to be coming from the more privileged and connected individuals in the city. However, he didn't seem to be concerned about his own political health.

"Not a lot of time meaning that you know that if you put the most powerful people in New York in your cross hairs that anyone left standing will see to it that you never win another election in your life?"

Jack continued to smile as he began to retie his tie and gather his things. "Ahh, but I know something they don't know."

Not nearly amused as he seemed to be, Anita put her hands on her hips, "What's that?"

Not pausing in his actions Jack stated calmly, "I'm not going to run for a second term."

Anita was stunned speechless. She couldn't believe it. Jack almost didn't take the interim DA job because he didn't want to leave the court room and now he was willing to walk away from the job completely? It didn't seem right.

"Surely proving your point to these people isn't worth walking away."

"Having the freedom to prove a point to the blowhards without worrying about political fallout is simply an added bonus. Not running again has nothing to do with anyone in New York or Albany or even Washington."

Anita shook her head in disbelief. "But you've always been so passionate about your work. About the law. You're in a place where you can make sure justice is really done. What could possibly be worth leaving?"

She wasn't aware of the details but she knew McCoy had made an enemy of the former Governor and she worried that somehow that shark was still finding a way to push Jack out.

But Jack stood behind his desk, smiling a rare, broad, true smile. One that she didn't think she'd ever seen before. "Rebecca's pregnant."

"Oh. Congratulations." Anita responded automatically. She still wasn't sure why that meant Jack had to walk away from his work.

Going back to gathering paperwork into his briefcase Jack's smile began to fade. "I lost so much time with her I refuse to squander my opportunity to be a grandfather."

That was the connection. As much as she didn't want to, Anita was beginning to understand Jack's decision. "So you're…"

He nodded vigorously, "Moving to California after the next guy gets sworn in. By that time my grandchild will be a toddler and be able to appreciate it when I spoil him or her rotten."

Anita couldn't stop herself from smiling as a proud grin remain plastered on McCoy's generally solemn features. She was happy for him but couldn't help teasing him. "Work has been you're whole lie; you'll have to learn to fight withdrawal."

Jack nodded his head, "Actually I've got that figured out too. Do you remember Danielle Melnick? The Defense Attorney?"

At Anita's affirmative nod he continued, "She moved out there a few years ago to teach and be near her sister. Anyway, she's started an independent consulting firm. We've been friends for longer than we were adversaries so she suggested that when I go out there that we could partner and expand to offer contracted consulting services to prosecutors and plaintiffs. I'll be able to work when I want on what I want."

Anita nodded her head thoughtfully.

"Sounds perfect."

Jack shrugged and lead her out the door as he shut the office light, "Nothing's perfect. I will miss this place and people. Don't tell anyone, no one here knows yet and I need to figure out how to tell Cutter; he was a huge factor in my running and winning. I actually have a little guilt about everything when I think about him and a few other people. But this is all still a couple of years down the road. You and I still have a lot of work to do Lieutenant. There are a lot of self-important jerks in this city whom we need to try and introduce to consequences and justice."

As they reached the elevators Anita smiled. "It'll be a fun ride. We've got some good people on our side counselor; I like our chances."

As the elevator doors slid Jack nodded, "Me too Lieutenant. Me too."

* * *

_That's it! Sorry for the delay in the last chapter; I had a really hard time writing it. Thank you to those who read the whole thing and special thanks to the reviewers! I really appreciate it!_


End file.
